


Handsy

by songofthe52hertzwhale



Series: Dalton Big Bang 2018 [5]
Category: Dalton Academy Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:52:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15381045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songofthe52hertzwhale/pseuds/songofthe52hertzwhale
Summary: Julian Larson knows just how to make political dinners a little less boring





	Handsy

Logan knew inviting Julian to this dinner was a bad idea.

Michelle had _insisted_ , once Logan told her about their burgeoning relationship. She hated seeing Logan bored at these dinners, said that having his boyfriend along might make things a little less boring.

That was one way of putting it.

They barely made it through the first course before Julian’s hand found its way to Logan’s leg.

It started out innocently. Or at least as innocent as anything involving someone as heart-stoppingly sexy as Julian Larson could be.

Halfway through the second course, Julian’s hand had started moving. He rubbed slow circles against Logan’s thigh, thumb digging into the hard muscle. Logan cleared his throat, shifted in his seat and attempted to focus on the conversation at hand.

Politics, of course — Representative Daniels was a good ten minutes into a diatribe about the latest economic sanctions, and Senator Wright nodded along, chiming in with his own opinion. It was no wonder that Julian was so distracted, really. Boring conversation. Boring food. Like Michelle, his main role at these dinners relied on looking pretty and chiming in with the occasionally joke. He’d already achieved that, more than once, and no longer had anything worthwhile to do.

Except, it seemed, to torture Logan.

The hand didn’t move from his thigh.

In fact, it shifted _higher_ , and Logan chanced a sideways glance at Julian’s face. Outwardly, he made no indication of his actions. His expression remained neutral, and he nodded along to the conversation every so often. Under the table, though, he palmed Logan, the heel of his hand rubbing against Logan’s hardening cock.

Logan could feel his face flushing, hoped anyone looking would attribute it to the mostly-empty glass of wine in front of him.

The Senator called his name, suddenly, seeking Logan’s opinion on whatever it is they’ve been discussing. He fumbled for a moment, desperately tried to come up with something sufficiently impressive.

Julian came to the rescue, of course, smoothly taking over the conversation to _rave_ about the recent economics essay Logan had written on this very topic, how their teacher used it as an example in front of the entire grade.

John seemed only mildly annoyed at Julian taking over the conversation but moved on quickly enough, turning to another guest to ask about the recent increase in crude oil production.

And Julian’s hand kept moving. He gripped Logan through his slacks, fingers running down his now fully-hard length. Logan’s throat tightened, and he lifted his wine glass to his lips, used it to hide his moving lips from the rest of the table.

“I need you to stop,” he murmured, eyeing Julian, “I’m not gonna make it through dinner.”

“But _babe_ ,” Julian fluttered his eyelashes, a mock expression of innocence on his face, “I’ve barely started.”

“And you’re already killing me, alright? Later.”

He lowered his hand, settling it on top of Julian’s and stilling his roaming fingers. Squeezed, slightly, and kept their hands linked under the table.

A small act of rebellion at a table full of conservative Republicans.

Dinner seemed to drag on _forever_.

After, Michelle dragged everyone into the parlor, begged Logan to play something for them all as they continued the conversation. Julian settled onto an ottoman across the room, a champagne flute held in his hand as he eyed Logan, tracing the path of his fingers across the keys.

Logan’s played this piece a hundred times. The notes, the motions, the rise and fall of music are more familiar to him than his own face. Still, with Julian’s dark gaze on him, that smirk on his lips…

Even Michelle noticed the fumbling over notes. She frowned a little, drifted across the room to Logan and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you tired, darling?” She asked, looking concerned, “You’re welcome to go upstairs, I’m sure your father won’t mind.”

Logan debated shaking it off. Part of him wanted to stay to spite his father, knowing how uncomfortable he felt about his very gay son parading his very male partner around in public. But the other part of him — the stronger part of him — was _dying_ to drag said partner upstairs, to throw him on the bed and pound into him until he screamed so loud the guests all heard.

“Yeah,” he finally said, pulling his hands from the piano, “Sorry, I’m a little tired. School, you know?”

“Oh of course, dear,” Michelle pulled him into a hug, looking apologetic, “We shouldn’t have kept you up so late, I’m so sorry.”

Julian drifted over to his side, resting a hand on his arm, “Thank you for inviting me, Mrs. Wright. It was a great party.”

“Thank you, dear. You two go get some sleep, okay? We’ll see you in the morning.”

They barely made it out of the room.

Julian pressed Logan against the wall the moment they slipped through the door, kissing him a little desperately.

“Fuck,” he whispered, even as his hands slipped under Logan’s shirt, “I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

“You practically _did_ ,” Logan said, tugging at the buttons of Julian’s shirt, “Feeling me up under the table like that, you absolute _asshole_.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. The way you're always pulling me into your lap in the common room? You get off on people watching.”

“My father was sitting four feet away.”

“He totally noticed, too,” Julian smirked, “Right before you stopped me. It’s a good thing you don’t care about his approval.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“Big word. Doing that SAT prep with Derek, are we?”

“I could be doing _you_ , if you moved a little faster.”

“So impatient, aren't we?”

Logan just shoved him towards the stairs, swatting at his ass hard enough to make Julian yelp. They raced upstairs together, pausing every few steps to grab at each other.

That night, a chosen handful of Congress’s best and brightest were _definitely_ treated to an earful, as Logan Wright did his damndest to make Julian Larson scream.


End file.
